


Clean

by gemini_cole



Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: F/M, PWP, Shower Sex, Smut, established characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole
Summary: Henry hits the showers after the Commando Challenge with his girlfriend Poppy





	

Poppy walked into her bathroom, shedding her clothes as she went. It was half past noon on a gorgeous fall afternoon, and as much as she’d love to be out enjoying it, she had just gotten home from a grueling overnight shoot. Flipping the knobs in her walk-in shower with a practiced hand, she shook her hair from her ponytail and tuned up her favorite playlist on the in-home stereo system as she waited for the water to heat up.

            Stepping under the spray, she closed her eyes and sighed as the hot water sluiced through her hair and down her body. Rolling her shoulders to rid herself of the last of her tension, she leaned forward for the shampoo bottle.       

            “Room in that shower for two, princess?”

            Shrieking as she dropped the shampoo bottle on her foot, she turned to see Henry lounging in the open doorway to the bathroom, one broad shoulder pressed against the door jam, he had his arms crossed snugly around his massive chest, one booted ankle crossed in front of the other. She felt an eyebrow lift at the fluffy green hair bow in his hair. He smiled smugly at her as she took in his grimy appearance.

            Of course. The Commando Challenge had been this morning. Poppy wondered to herself why she thought Henry would have showered somewhere local before coming home. Was that just female logic? The less mess the better? She shuddered to think what the inside of the car must look like. Before she could even respond, Henry bent at the waist and began unlacing his boots. Removing the left, he toed the right one off as he yanked the first of the two shirts he was wearing over his head. As she recovered her power of speech, she chided him, “ What’s with the accessories? And we do have a laundry room, you know!”

            Pausing to look at the mess about him, he quirked his eyebrow and shot back, “Indeed we do. Nik’s mates were having a bit of a go; you know how they are. Is this a bit of the pot and kettle, princess? I see your clothes haven’t found their way to the hamper either.”

            Poppy shrugged, knowing a losing battle when she saw one. Biting back a reply about her clothes not being caked in mud and smelling of god knows what, she squeezed a dollop of shampoo into her hand and began massaging it into her scalp as Henry pulled the second of the two shirts over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Wiping a clear spot in the now foggy shower glass door, she admired the form that was her boyfriend, as the muscles in his shoulders flexed, and his abs bunched and smoothed out with every movement. Poppy cursed internally. Yes, she was exhausted, but damn if she wasn’t also horny. And the sight of Henry, now standing there in nothing but muddy camo pants was doing things to her. Shaking her head, she went back to washing her hair with renewed vigor as Henry stepped into the shower behind her.

            “See something you like, darling?” Henry murmured as he fiddled with the settings on the showerhead, turning on the “rainfall” function, which provided space and water enough for the both of them.

            Poppy snorted delicately. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re filthy. Look at you!” She motioned dismissively to his body, where rivulets of water were now mingling with the mud caked all over him.

            Henry’s arm snaked around her from behind, pulling her body flush to his. One hand crept up to capture a breast, where he tweaked and rolled one pert nipple between his fingers. Nibbling her earlobe, he whispered, “Your body is giving you away, sweetheart. No shame in asking for what you want. I’m right here.”

            _Ah, yes. That again_ , Poppy thought to herself. It was a source of conversation between the threesome in her life. A threesome that consisted of herself, Henry, and a lovely woman named Jennifer, a couple’s therapist she and Henry currently saw twice a month, at the urging of her personal therapist. Through the course of conversations with her therapist, Poppy had discovered she had “issues” with assertiveness, in that Poppy would rather do something herself, than ask for help from others. From that stemmed the revelation in couples counseling from Henry that he felt unsure of their relationship due to always being the one to initiate any sort of intimacy between them. Which resulted in a long, and as yet unfinished, conversation about Poppy’s issues with “rejection.” And while Henry had been wonderfully patient about trying to reassure and encourage her, Poppy still struggled. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders she turned in his arms, coming face to face with his chest. Running her hands up and over the planes of his chest, she rested her hands on his shoulders, and pushed down gently, hoping he understood her unspoken cues.

            Obediently, Henry dropped to his knees, as Poppy again grabbed the shampoo bottle. Gazing down at him, she replied evenly, “Let’s get you cleaned up first. Then we’ll see who’s asking for what, shall we?” Upending the bottle, she squeezed a generous amount onto Henry’s head. Sinking her fingers into his silken, wet hair, she massaged gently, working from his crown to nape and back. Dragging her nails over his scalp, she was gratified to hear a low moan, as Henry’s shoulders drooped and he rested his cheek against her belly, occasionally planting soft kisses across the curve of her hips. Idly running his hands up and down the backs of her thighs, he cupped her ass and squeezed gently as Poppy urged him to tilt his head back. Carefully rinsing the shampoo from his hair, she nudged him, urging him to stand. Grabbing her loofah and his body wash, she squirted a generous amount onto it and knelt. Beginning at his feet, she worked her way up his legs. Teasingly she stroked the ticklish spots behind his knees. Smiling innocently she stood, moving to stand behind him. From there, she started at his shoulders, scrubbing back and forth, working at a downward angle. As she moved around him, soaping his arms, her fingers tracing the shapes of his biceps, she was gratified to see him watching her work through half-lidded eyes, heavy with desire or maybe relaxation. At this point she couldn’t tell which, but thought either one meant she was doing something right. Sliding her hands down around his back she tossed the loofah on the floor, and rubbed slow circles on his ass, before playfully smacking him.

            “All clean, Mr. Cavill.”

            “Uh-uh. You missed a spot.” He shot back immediately.

            Poppy smiled to herself. “Did I?” she replied innocently.

            “You know full well you did, you minx.”

            Poppy stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Playfully biting him, she slid one hand down to wrap around his cock. Stroking him idly, she murmured, “You mean this spot?”

            Poppy felt, rather than heard the low, grumbling groan. Encouraged, she picked up her pace. Feeling him harden in her hand, she moved to stand in front of him. Looking up at him as she stroked him, she met his eyes. She watched him as his eyes fluttered shut, and he flattened his palms against the shower wall.

            Sinking back down to her knees, she rubbed her thumb gently over the crown of his cock, and slowed her movements, using the water to rinse away the remaining soap. Dipping her head, she moved closer, slicking her tongue along the underside of his length, tracing the veins from root to tip where she swirled her tongue slowly, once, twice, three times for good measure before taking him into her mouth. Wrapping one hand around his cock and the other on his thigh to steady herself, she began moving slowly, savoring the feel of Henry’s cock twitch and thicken in her mouth. Sucking harder, moving infinitesimally faster, she felt Henry’s fingers tangle in her hair, guiding her. Encouraged, she backed away, his cock separating from her mouth with a satisfying pop, only to lean back in immediately. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to relax, taking even more of him into her mouth, hearing him gasp as he hit the back of her throat. This was a first for her, and she while she wanted to celebrate, she also didn’t want to gag. Feeling Henry tense, she swallowed around him, then began to bob her head, moaning around his cock. Feeling him harden further, she knew he was about to come apart for her.

            It was then she felt Henry tighten his grip in her hair, and tug, before pulling away. Before she could even form a conscious thought, he was gripping her wrist, yanking her into a standing position. Cradling her face in his hands, his mouth crashed against hers, his tongue delving between her lips. Moaning into his mouth, Poppy felt herself being lifted and pinned against the shower wall. She clasped her arms around his neck as Henry slid his hands down her body, gripping her thighs and securing them around his waist, his rigid cock now lying flat against his belly, nestled between them. He kissed along her jawline, sucking here and there in a way that made Poppy glad she had the next few days off. All thought of work flew out of her head as Henry reached between them, his thumb finding her clit. Swirling in slow, steady circles, Poppy bit her lip and moaned as her hips began moving of their own volition.

            Suddenly plunging two fingers deep inside her, Poppy gasped. As he crooked his fingers and rubbed her clit simultaneously, Poppy arched her back, keening. She was close, so very close. If he just kept doing _that_ , right there, she would fall apart. Knowing this, Henry pulled away, his eyes glued to her face as those blue eyes that he loved; the ones now screwed shut in ecstasy flew open indignantly.

            “Hen-nry!” she mewled. “Please!”

            Regarding her tenderly, wiping the strands of hair plastered across her forehead gently, he leaned in, kissing her neck. “You have only to ask, love. Please what?”

            “Please, please, please!” Poppy chanted, her hand between them. Knowing what she was doing, he gently grabbed her hand and pinned it above her head. “Use your words, princess.”

            “Fuck me! Dammit! Fuck me!” she sobbed brokenly, Her free hand dug into his hair and pulled hard, urgently.

            Henry knew she was at her breaking point. Tonight, this was as close as he would get, as much as he could ask of her. Grabbing the base of his cock, he aligned his hips, sliding smoothly inside her, deep, full, hard. Heaven. Feeling her stretch around him, He gave her a moment to adjust, before he began stroking in and out lazily, agonizingly slowly, stretching out each remaining moment. Stroking her cheek with his fingertips, he growled, “Poppy. Open your eyes and look at me. Be here with me.”

            She opened her eyes and looked. Really looked at him. It was there, a shadow, a hint of pleading. It was in the fleeting moments like this that she knew, really understood what it was, what it meant to him, this need. He needed to know he was wanted too. Poppy vowed to work harder as she tightened around him. Feeling his end approaching, she kissed him slowly, her hands in his hair, holding him close, putting her own orgasm on hold to relish in his. Maybe this thing that started out being about Poppy talking about what she wanted could be about both. By giving Henry what he wanted, maybe she stood to get more of what she wanted in the end.

            Or; she thought, as Henry fell apart against her, his heart thudding against hers, maybe she thought too much. Sometimes a shower is just a shower.

            Hmmmm.

           


End file.
